


Now Look At The Lights

by defcontwo



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, set in nebulous future post-SSM, warnings for loss of agency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting Peter back - whole and alive and in control of his own body - that was the easy part, in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Look At The Lights

**Author's Note:**

> There is no actual making out in this fic, whoooooops. They'll get there. Eventually.

Getting Peter back - whole and alive and in control of his own body - that was the easy part, in the end. Everyone looks at him and expects him to be the same old Peter, lame jokes and all. 

Peter tries. He tries just like he always has, to be what this city needs him to be and what the others need him to be. He papers over his insecurities and his trauma with wise cracks that fall flat half of the time and pretends not to see the guilty looks thrown his way. 

You'd think they'd know better, Felicia thinks. She barely contains her disgust for most of the so-called heroes these days. 

Mary-Jane, she sympathizes with. Mary-Jane who kept coming around and sitting and letting Peter talk and who left only when he told her that it was just too much. 

The two of them, once two halves of a whole, need space from each other. They need space to heal and move on and find peace with what's happened, and maybe one day they'll fall together again like they always do. 

In the space where Mary-Jane once was, there is her and Matt to pick up the pieces. 

It surprises her, how understanding Matt is. He doesn't get it, not really, not like Felicia does. He knows many types of pain and suffering but this crawling beneath the skin, not feeling right within yourself - no, Matt doesn't get it, but he has the patience now to try. She gets the feeling that he wasn't always like this, always so settled within himself. The man without fear has matured and thank God for that, because she doesn't think she could do this alone. 

They carve out a routine. Most nights, there is just this: the three of them leaping from rooftop to rooftop with no real agenda in sight. Sometimes they stop crime but most times, they let it go, they leave it to the dozens of others in this city to pick up the slack. 

This ease of flight, the wind whipping around them and the sounds of the city rushing through their ears - it helps. Peter's laughter comes a little easier, the flirtatious banter amongst them a little quicker and a little more daring with each passing night. 

She remembers late nights like this with Peter before, remembers pushing up the mask to kiss him. She remembers how he'd been eager and a little sloppy and it was more endearing than it had any right to be. She thinks of that time with Matt, how his kisses had been purposeful and intense, and wonders what it'll be like when the three of them finally take that logical step forward. 

Because it's a matter of when, not if. They're on the precipice of something here, of acting upon this camaraderie mixed with chemistry and a whole lot of trust. But Felicia's in no mood to rush it; there's plenty more rooftops left for them to leap from before they get there.


End file.
